


Daylight

by saphique



Category: The Favourite (2018)
Genre: F/F, Impatience, Smut, a quickie in the daylight, interrupted meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 12:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17366132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphique/pseuds/saphique
Summary: "I was wondering when you'd be done, I'm starting to feel lonely…" Anne pouts, and Sarah isn't sure if this is pure, spoiled honesty or deranged manipulation. Could be both."When I'm done? With my meetings? Mrs. Morley, I have work to do, you know. Like, oh, taking care of your kingdom, for example! It takes more than a few meetings to accomplish this task." Her words are severe, her posture is unerring but there is tenderness in her eyes and playfulness in her voice.





	Daylight

It is late in the morning, close to noon. From her bedchambers, Queen Anne easily recognizes the clatter of Sarah's high heels approaching. She anticipates her lover's arrival as Sarah pushes open the golden doors of her room, before the valet closes them behind her.

"What is it?" Sarah's annoyed tone is softened by the amused smile appearing at the corner of her lips. She's walking in direction of the Queen, who is sitting randomly on the floor in the middle of the room in the carpeted area. Her leg is stretched, displaying her blood-stained and wounded leg.

"I was wondering when you'd be done, I'm starting to feel lonely…" Anne pouts, and Sarah isn't sure if this is pure, spoiled honesty or deranged manipulation. Could be both.

"When I'm done? With my meetings? Mrs. Morley, I have work to do, you know. Like, oh, taking care of your kingdom, for example! It takes more than a few meetings to accomplish this task." Her words are severe, her posture is unerring but there is tenderness in her eyes and playfulness in her voice.  

"I've missed you…" the Queen twiddles with the fabric of her sleeve, not daring to set eyes directly up to her friend. Her hair is down, cascading over her shoulders and breasts.

"Anne, I've told you already, I am not a piece of meat you can take a bite of whenever you're having a craving."

Trying to maintain a calmed position, the Queen nods despite herself and unconsciously licks her lips. Illness, nightmares, lust and boredom are her worst enemies, and she's fighting them all at once. Her silence is unusual, an unfamiliar shyness. The Queen is trying her hardest not to rub her thighs together as a warmth runs through her, triggered by Sarah's perfume.

"Why don't you come along and assist me, your majesty? That way you'll be at my side as well as accomplishing your duties as Queen." This suggestion came out harsher than expected.

"Don't you dare talk to me like this. I am your Queen. You know very well how indisposed I am. It doesn't stop me from having feelings." Looking up at Sarah, Anne's stare is intense and offended. Her cheeks are pink.

"I'm sorry, you're right. Therefore, find another thing to play with." Sarah becomes impatient, sets her hands on both side of her waist to underline her refusal.

"You really can't stay, not even for an hour?" The Queen bites her lower lip and has to stop herself from rocking back and forth as a soothing mechanism. Instinctively, her hands are rubbing her own thighs, as if she's wiping them or creating heat.

Sarah walks toward the Queen, stopping only an inch of distance from her. Her dress is tickling the Queen's face. It takes only a couple of seconds for Anne to encircle Sarah's legs with her arms, flattening the thickness of the fabrics. She's hugging her strongly over her dress and inhaling her scent close to her crotch.

Concerted, Sarah's ordering the Queen to get up, offering her hands to help her in the process. Disobedient, Anne is not moving, she's holding on more strongly to Sarah's legs and sticking her face further in the fabric close to Sarah's thighs. Her erratic breathing is creating a hot pressure on Sarah's center. As the Queen is starting to push her hands under Sarah's robes to have access to her ankles, Sarah tilts a little. Wanting to interrupt Anne's administrations, Sarah puts her hands on the Queen's shoulders, tugs gently.

"Anne, please get up. Let's go to the bed."

"I don't want to rest." Resistance is the Queen's answer, unaware of her friend's intentions.

"I'm not wanting you to rest. I want you on your bed, now." With strong arms, Sarah bends over and slides her hands underneath Anne's armpits, ready to lift her up to her feet. Anne complies and hoists herself.

Face to face, Anne notices Sarah's mischief from the twinkle in her eye. Sarah notices the pinkness on Anne's cheeks and her sugary breath.  

Finally catching up on Sarah's proposal, Anne begins to mumble and tremble from fear and excitement. She's stepping backwards, in direction of the gorgeous bed.

"But… but… we never…in daylight." It's a surprise the Queen manages to speak since the hammering of her heart sounds like a thunderstorm.

"Lie down."

The Queen obeys, with struggle caused by her sore leg. Sarah crawls over her, like a predator over a gentle prey, with agility and precision for someone who is wearing such a clothing.  

"But, Sarah…we…the…"

"You're being too needy and if we don't fuck now, you'll become unbearable."

Following this statement, the Queen loses every self-control remaining in her body. She feels herself getting wet, shivering and whimpering. Without permission, Sarah kisses the Queen, hungrily. Anne melts and thinks she's boiling under Sarah's weight. Mrs. Freeman's tongue dances with hers and Anne savours her lover's saliva as if it was chocolate.

Their bodies are slowing creating a rhythmic gesture of back and forth, rubbing on each other's being. Whining through their kiss, Sarah releases their mouths in order to breathe.

She sits up on Anne's waist, far enough to have access to her quivering thighs.

"We don't have much time."

Sarah fumbles with Anne's front corsage with steady hands, clutching at her breasts, appreciating their roundness. Quickly, Sarah manages to set a breast free from the fabric. She bends over and takes it in her mouth, sucking softly. A guttural moan escapes Anne's throat, before she regrets it and slaps a hand over her mouth.

"You seem ready, aren't you?"

Anne only whimpers and her face reddens, silencing her reply with her hand firmly pressed over her lips.

"I have so much work to do, you know. Taking care of your kingdom."

Sarah slides down slightly, working with Anne's dressing gown and succeeds in pushing it out of the way, revealing her bare legs. A hint of sympathy washes over Sarah as she notices how inflamed the skin of her injured leg is becoming. Instead of breaking the mood, she focuses on Anne's needs, clearly centered between her legs.  

"Taking care of your cunt."

With a soft hand, Sarah pushes aside the panties, having direct access to the Queen's wet vulva.

A groan of eagerness finds its way out of Anne's mouth as she's biting hard on her own hand. Her hips are swaying, urging Sarah to continue. Invited, Sarah confidently enters two fingers into her. Amazement and pride are filling Sarah's heart as she relishes on the wetness she finds. She follows the rhythm established by her Queen's response.

"Look at what you make me do. You know I should be at my meetings."

Her words are having the desired effect, it makes the Queen push even further on her fingers, meeting her thrusts. Behind closed eyes, Anne feels delirious, rebellious, delicious. Sarah is fingering her Queen hastily but softly, rocked by the gush of wetness pooling underneath.  

"What if someone barges in, Miss. Morley and sees us?" The rise of her breasts is hypnotizing, the Queen is certainly hopeful for a fast relief as she's concentrating, frowning.

The direct sunlight changes the dynamic, urges them, reminds them of the illicitness of their actions.

"Please, rub yourself on me."  Anne loves it when Sarah rubs herself directly on her naked skin, leaving strains of dampness, like a trophy.

"We don't have time, my dear."

Frustrated, the Queen complies, understands she can't totally obtain what she wants. Resolutely, she slides her own hand down there, close to Sarah's pumping fingers, and begins to rub on her clit to accelerate the arrival of her orgasm.

As it overwhelms her, the tension in her body vanishes. Anne feels like a light feather being whirled by a warm wind. Sarah removes her hand, wipes it on the Queen's dressing gown and has the presence of mind of replacing the clothing over the Queen's exposed breast and over her bare legs.

"We'll continue this evening," Sarah promises.

Tenderly, Sarah kisses Anne's humid forehead before getting off the bed and marching back to the golden doors, her dress a little askew, reassured by Anne's calmed breathing.

 

 


End file.
